Mini Moto Madness: 4

Assembling the Wal-Mart Huffy bicycle was fairly straightforward. When I was a kid, USA-built Huffy bikes were pretty crappy. They were ok if you rode them like a normal bicycle but jumping or rough scrambling would break the frames. Huffys are made in China now and the frame welds look attractive and strong. From the wheels to the handlebars the whole bike looks better than the Huffys of yesteryear. Which is a good thing because I’m strapping a 2 horsepower motor into the frame of the Huffy to see what she’ll do.

As per the Bicycle Motor Builders Facebook page I packed heavy-duty wheel bearing grease into both wheels. This is a pretty simple job as you only need to loosen the bearing cones a bit to push grease into the gap.

Once the bearings were greased I fitted the rear sprocket onto the wheel. This is the cheesiest part of the install as the sprocket sandwiches the spokes between 2 rubber spacers. Keeping the sprocket centered on the wheel is critical so I used a hole saw blade wrapped in duct tape as a mandrel.

The job went well but when I went to spin the wheel to check the sprocket for square the wheel wouldn’t rotate on the axle. As it turns out a small metal dust cap got squeezed between the sprocket center and the hub, locking the wheel.

I dismantled the mess and removed the dust cap. After reinstalling and truing the sprocket I trimmed the dust cap to fit inside the center hole of the sprocket. The bolts for the sprocket are long but you’ll need that length to get the nuts started. One of the 9 bolts in my kit was a bit too short, or I lost the right one so I used a bolt from the junk drawer after cutting it to length. The sprocket to hub deal looks like poo-poo but the sprocket seems like it is attached well and no one complains about it online. We will see.

The sprocket holes are elongated to allow for different wheel hubs but I didn’t like the bit of hole showing so I put ¼” washers on the bolts to conceal the gap. This looks great except that the rear brake stay arm now came in contact with the bolt heads. It’s that tight! A quick realignment in the vise and the arm cleared the bolt heads.

Of course when you alter one item it causes a chain reaction down stream. The re-bent brake stay arm no longer fit between the axle side-plates so I had to make a new clamp to stop the brake stay from rotating under braking. The stock clamp was super thin steel. I figured with 2hp pushing the Huffy to high speeds the clamp needed to be a bit heavier.

The bolt on the stock arm was a tiny #10. That didn’t look so hot to me so I bumped it up to a ¼” size. And since I couldn’t wait for the paint to dry the clamp got a little scratched up.

With the rear wheel fitted back into the frame I started test fitting parts. The rear motor mount clamps securely to the seat post but this frame has a large diameter front tube that is too wide for the bolt centers of the front mount. The motor kit comes with a U-bolt and clamp setup for wide front tubes. I could make it work but it looks horrible and most likely will rattle apart. I’ll have to rethink the front mount. The carb is a little close to the top tube. I will probably run the throttle cable inside the top tube to give it a larger radius bend. The chain run will determine final motor placement.

That’s the progress I’ve made to date. The white frame with black trim looks sharp. The bike feels balanced and not heavy in the least.

Bonneville Speed Week

Berk and I have a busy ExhaustNotes.us August planned. You’ve already read about his Three Flags tour on the new, untested RX4 Zongshen and I’m finalizing plans for an assault on the Bonneville speed trials. No, I won’t be racing Mini Moto Madness but seeing as how I’ve never been to the salt for Speed Week and I’m not getting any younger I figured this is the year.

It wasn’t really my idea. It was Mike’s. Mike lives on a ranch in Carrizozo, New Mexico. I met Mike a hundred miles north at a little restaurant in Willard. I wanted shredded beef tacos but the restaurant was out of beef. I didn’t want to use up my private stash so I went back to the menu. That’s when Mike piped up and told me to try the pork tacos. I had three pork tacos with beans and rice. I recommend them highly.

Willard is kind of a slow place. The intersection of Highways 60 and 42 is the main topic of conversation in town. Mike and I got to shooting the breeze like all motorcyclists do and it turns out Mike likes to ride dirt trails on his BMW thumper 650. I mean you had me at dirt, you know? We started doing a few rides and then the Bonneville thing came up. We’re going to try and hit a few dirt roads on our way north.

We need to make pretty good time on this trip so Godzilla, while reliable, is too stressed out at 70 mph leaving The Wedge, my Husqvarna 510. The Husky’s fork seals are leaking badly. I’ve bought new seals to install. That should be interesting as I’ve never worked on upside down forks. The clutch lever is broken from a spill I took in Big Bend Park. I’m going to cut the end off a donor lever and weld it to the stub remaining from the original lever. It should make a nice, Frankenstein looking part when I’m through. I know I can buy a new lever. I just feel more at home doing things the hard way. The drive chain is still in fair shape but with 11,000 miles on the thing I’m going to change it as a prophylactic measure.

The tires are new-ish on the Husky but slanted towards street riding and not so good for dirt. Mike’s heavy BMW 650 has decent dirt tires. I’m hoping my bike being 200 pounds lighter will even us up on the trails. I’ll also bring along a leaking plastic jug of fuel so that all my camping gear and clothing will be soaked with gas after 15 miles.

Motorcycle camping is not my idea of fun. Either you carry no gear and enjoy the motorcycle ride only to suffer as you roll around in the dirt trying to sleep at night or you bring enough equipment to camp comfortably and have a miserable ride on your overloaded bike stopping every few miles to repack.

Mike and I will be at the KOA in West Wendover from August 12th to the 14th. If you’re around town stop by and visit us. Bring beer if you want us to be happy to see you. Our campsite is good for up to six people. I’ll have coffee. There will be fire.  It’ll be fun. You’ll see.

Mini Motor Madness: 3

It’s sort of futile hopping up a 2-horsepower bicycle engine because the rear sprocket-to-spoke connection is so weak. Spindly running gear has never stopped a hot-rodder before and bicycle motor aficionados are hot-rodders to the bone. While Mini Motor Madness is on hold awaiting parts I wandered into the wonderfully inexpensive world of high performance engine goodies.

The bog standard bicycle motor is not heavily finned. Overheating doesn’t seem to be a problem but with an aluminum bore and a recommended 16:1 oil/gas ratio it is clearly something to watch out for. Like all parts for these little motors there are a zillion sellers insuring fierce competition and low prices for the thrifty Rodder. The increase in the quantity of cylinder head metal alone would be helpful in keeping things square and dampening noise. The large, deep fins must do a great job of lowering cylinder temperatures. A cooler cylinder means you’ll be able to run a leaner mixture without melting internal parts. Less oil means more room for fuel going through those tiny orifices in your carb. It’s like changing jet size by playing with the fuel ratio. Any compression increases would probably be nullified by the low-grade gasoline cheap mini motor fans cannot help but use.

There is even more selection when it comes to exhaust systems. Two-piece, welded seam expansion chambers are the most numerous and various finishes are on offer to suit anyone’s budget. Expansion chambers are like free horsepower in that most times you won’t need to do much carburetor work to get the things in tune. Using a combination of black magic and sonic waves, expansion chambers most often move the powerband higher into the rev range and will allow the motor to spin up another few thousand RPM. Those extra RPM’s are a good thing for drafting Indian FTR750s on the long straightaways at The Sacramento Mile but a chambered motor may not get you over that last vertical shelf of a long, rocky hill climb.  It’s the one where you don’t dare downshift for fear of losing momentum.

No matter how well designed, reed valves are an obstruction in the intake tract of a mini motor. They make up for this by stopping the constant re-carburation of the fuel mixture due to the reverse air pulses created by a sloppy piston port intake. Reeds also allow huge holes in the piston skirt to extend the degrees of rotation a crankcase can draw in the fuel/air mixture. Since nothing can blow back out the carburetor, an extra transfer port can be carved into the intake side of the cylinder wall. Combined with an expansion chamber, reed valves can more than make up for blocking the intake tract. Even without all the piston/transfer port butchery low speed running is improved by the cleaner intake signal.

With all the excitement focused on pumping more air through your mini motor you’ll find the stock carb wanting. Large carburetors are really cheap online so why not go all the way? For less than $200 you can convert your mild-mannered, reliable mini motor into an atomic bomb ready to explode between your legs at any moment. Sure it’s stupid. Sure you will burn more fuel and annoy all you neighbors, but when have those things mattered to a Rodder?

Dream Bikes: Ossa Pioneer

I must have been around 15 years old the first time I saw an Ossa Pioneer. It was at Haines City motocross track. Mike Mills’ mom was divorced and her boyfriend gave us a ride way out to Chrome Avenue in his boat tail Buick Riviera . What a car! The Riviera smelled great inside not only because it was new, but because the boyfriend wore cologne. This was the first time I had been around a grown man that used cologne. All the other adult men I had known up to that point smelled like dirty socks. I smell like dirty socks right now.


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“Burn the tires, c’mon!” we pleaded. It was a strange experience sitting in the plush, perfumed Riviera as the big V-8 engine effortlessly spun the tires into clouds of cotton candy. “Want to stop at the hobby store to pick up some sniffing glue, boys?” Damn we laughed and had fun with that guy. He treated us like equals, like he cared what we had to say. I wish I could remember his name. It was like going to the motocross races with Hugh Heffner.

He drove 90 miles per hour every chance he got and it wasn’t long before he was dropping us at the motocross track. He spun the Buick around and said, “I’ll be back at five.” And then lit the tires up again on Chrome Avenue. He was exactly what we wanted to be when we grew up.

Mostly Bultacos and Maicos were racing in Haines City back then but one guy had an Ossa Pioneer with the lights removed. The rider was good. He would get crossed up over the jumps and finished in the top 5 against real race bikes. I loved how the rear fender blended into the bike. That fiberglass rear section had a small storage area inside. One of the bike magazines of the era tossed a loose spark plug in the storage and went scrambling. The plug beat a hole in the rear fender and they had the nerve to bitch about it. Hell, I knew at 10 that you have to wrap stuff in rags on a motorcycle.

It rains most everyday in Florida and it started pouring. The races kept going for a while but finally had to be called because it was a deluge. You could hardly see to walk. There was no cover so we huddled in the leeward side of the ticket stand out by the entrance. It rained harder, the wind was howling. Wearing only shorts and T-shirts we were getting colder and colder. My lips were turning blue, man.

It was like Niagara Falls, a solid sheet of water that the Riviera emerged from. Man, I was so glad to see that car. “How were the races, boys?” Soaking wet and shivering we piled into the Riviera’s soft leather seats. I thought he’d get mad but boyfriend just laughed. You got the feeling he could go buy another Riviera if he wanted to.


Want to read more Dreambikes?  They’re right here!

Mini Motor Madness: 2

I know what you’re thinking: Yet another ExhaustNotes.us project to be half completed and then shunted aside to gather dust in Tinfiny’s ferrous expanses. I can’t blame you, that’s been the pattern throughout my life. It seems like I get a lot done but I don’t get anything Done with a capital “D.” My shed is littered with the semi-cool and the semi-finished.

But there’s reason for hope on this one. Really. Unlike the Zed project that has plateaued due to funding issues everything has been purchased for Mini Motor Madness. The final piece of the puzzle is on order and the only thing stopping me now is United Parcel Service and assembly.

In Mini Motor Madness Part One you were treated to an overview of the little bicycle engine but I still needed a host bike to set “The Jewel” into. I was looking for something vintage like this 1941 Monkey Ward. These bikes are sorta hard to come by though and they run from $250 on up to the sale price of Tinfiny Ranch. The more I thought about it the less I liked the idea of butchering a classic bicycle. No, better leave those oldies to collectors who can stow them away for their heirs to auction off post-funeral.

I started looking at new bikes, which led me to China’s little mom & pop store, Wal-Mart. Wally-World has a sweet 26” Huffy standard style bike for only $88 delivered to my door. Just think: new tires, shiny paint and no rust anywhere! At that low-low price why bother with garage sales and repairing trashed bicycles? So I took the plunge on a white-framed example that should look striking combined with The Jewel’s black fuel tank and chain guard. Assembly is not included with mail-order bikes but would you want some ham-fisted Wal-Mart garden center employee messing with your brand new ride?

I’ve also tapped into a knowledge base at the Facebook page, Motorized Bicycle Builders. These gnarly veterans of the tiny-engine wars have seen it all and done it all. They have given the $88 Huffy two thumbs up providing I scrap the stock wheels, buy heavy-duty replacements, strip off the fenders and add a front brake. Unfortunately, this is valuable information that I will have to learn the hard way.

As recommended by MBM I will replace the flimsy fender braces with something more substantial and repack the wheel bearing with quality grease. I really want to finish a project for once and The Jewel may be the start of a new me: A me that completes the task at hand before…

Mini Motor Madness

There is a universe of product testers who thrive on YouTube. The oddest bit of kit has at least three reviews and the information is almost always valuable. I never buy anything without checking YouTube first. I’ve had my eye on these little motorized bicycle kits for years and after watching several videos showing the kits as fairly good quality I finally pulled the trigger.

The amount of equipment you get for $108 and free shipping from Amazon is amazing. The kit is complete, no need to go to the hardware store for an extra widget or a bolt. Some of the U-Tubers replaced the nuts and bolts with higher spec stuff but it’s not necessary.

The kit comes with a zillion parts bagged by function. On the carburetor, behind the idle screw old school motorcyclists will recognize the tickler, a plunger device that drowns the carb float causing fuel to spill into the engine. The function of the tickler is to enrich the fuel/air ratio for cold starting. Kind of like a choke except more flammable.

Amazon has pages and pages of bicycle motors and most of them look like the one I bought. Prices range from $90 to $200 for what looks like the same exact thing. There are 50cc kits and 80cc kits so I opted for the 80cc. YouTubers will tell you the 80cc engine measures out to around 60cc, which is a good thing because the engine fins don’t look large enough to cool a bigger bore. You can also buy 4-stroke kits but then you’d be no friend of mine. The main reason I sprung for this one was because it came with a chrome exhaust pipe.

The transmission is a one speed, manual clutch set up and you’ll get the throttle, throttle cable with a matching grip for the left side. A clutch lever with a push button latch allows you to disengage and lock the clutch for pedaling the bike as normal. Included on the throttle housing is a kill button that plugs into the ignition coil. Wiring couldn’t be easier as there are only two wires and I’m guessing it doesn’t matter how they connect.

The hokiest part of the conversion is attaching the rear sprocket. Your average bicycle has no way to connect a rear sprocket so you have to use two rubber discs, three steel plates and the sprocket to sandwich the spokes. This seems like a bad idea from many angles but YouTubers say it works ok. Centering the sprocket is critical along with adjusting run-out. A flimsy looking chain idler pulley is included to keep the included chain from sawing through the lower frame rail but again, the Tubers say it ends up working well. Careful adjustment of the motor in the frame may eliminate the need for an idler. That’s what I’ll be shooting for.

When I say complete I mean complete. You’ll get a chain guard, a petcock, a sparkplug and even fuel hose. Unless you want upgraded components there is really nothing else to buy.

The kit comes with a cool teardrop gas tank that bolts to the top frame tube. The tank comes glossy black and would look great sitting atop an 80 cubic-inch Indian flathead drag bike. Handwrite “The Jewel” on the side of the tank in that yellow junkyard paint and you will win all the bike nights.

The sheer quantity of parts for $108 makes me happy (a fringed T-shirt for a Harley costs $100). For me, it almost doesn’t matter it the thing works or not. I like looking at all the new pieces. My next step is to find an older, one speed, balloon-tired 26-inch bicycle for a host. One with curving frame tubes and chrome fenders. I’ll let you know when I find it and I’ll do a story on the install and road test of the little motor.

Indiana Jones: Part I

Yes, it really was like that. Somewhere along the Silk Road (the actual Silk Road) in China. I parked my RX3 when I saw the double rainbow, thinking someday I might use the shot in a blog about this adventure.

Almost 40 years ago, I saw my first Indiana Jones movie and it affected me profoundly.  I started traveling the world stumbling upon lost empires. Things that have been swallowed by time, as they say.  My motorcycle ride through Colombia had some of that.  The Baja adventures have a bit of it, too.  But none of the rides had more of an Indiana Jones flavor than did the ride across China.  That ride was three years ago this month, and I still think about it every day.  There were several things we saw in China that would have been right at home in an Indiana Jones movie.  One was Liqian.   I can best tell you about it with an excerpt from Riding China, the story of the ride with Joe Gresh across the Ancient Kingdom.

Gobi Gresh, aka Arjiu, stopping to smell the sunflowers in China.

The ride in the morning was just like yesterday. We rode the Silk Road at high speed, making great time in magnificent weather. I knew we were going to Wuwei (you could have a lot of fun with that name; it’s pronounced “woo wee”), but that was really all I knew about that day as we started out that morning. Boy, would this day ever be an interesting one!

It was to be a very full day, and Wuwei would be another one of those cities of several million people that seem to pop up in China every 50 to 100 miles. It was a huge city I had never heard of. China is an amazing place, and I was going to learn today it is more amazing than I could have imagined, and for a reason I would have never guessed. I’ve mentioned Indiana Jones movies a lot in this book. Today, we came upon something that could easily be…well, read on. This is going to be good.

After riding for a couple of hours, we left the freeway and entered a city called Yongchang. It seemed to be pretty much a regular Chinese city until we stopped. I needed to find a bathroom and Wong helped me. Wong is a big, imposing guy. He’s a corrections officer supervisor in Xi’an. He has a friendly look, but he can turn that off in a New York minute and become an extremely imposing figure. I saw him do that once on this trip, and I’ll tell you about that episode when we get to it.

Corrections Officer Supervisor Wong. He looks like a mischievous guy. This guy’s command presence was amazing. I saw him stop a car just by looking at it. Here, he’s enjoying the attention in Yongchang.

Anyway, I followed Wong through a couple of alleys and businesses until we came to an empty restaurant (it was mid-morning, and it had no customers). Wong spoke to the lady there, she nodded her head and smiled at me, and pointed to the bathroom. When I rejoined the guys back on the street, several women at a tailor shop (we had coincidentally stopped in front of a tailor shop) were fussing over Wong. He needed a button sewn on his jacket and it was obvious they were flirting with him. Wong seemed to be enjoying it. Like I said, Wong is a big guy, and I guess you could say he’s good looking. I think the women who were sewing his button on were thinking the same thing.

Beautiful young Chinese ladies. Mostly Chinese, anyway.  The one on the left is entering my phone number in her contacts list.

Three teenage girls approached us and wanted to know about our bikes. Like many young Chinese, they spoke English (in China, you learn English as a second language in grade school; it is a strong advantage in Chinese society if you can speak English well). They wanted to practice with us. It was the routine stuff (“how are you?” “hello,” and things like that) until one of the teenaged girls looked directly at me and asked, “Can I have your phone number?” Gresh and I both had a good laugh over that. I actually gave her my phone number and she carefully entered it into her phone (and no, she hasn’t called me yet).

I was enjoying all of this immensely, taking photos of the girls, the seamstresses flirting with Wong, and the rest of China all around me. There was something different about one of those teenage girls. I couldn’t quite recognize what it was, but to me she definitely looked, well, different.

Yongchang statues. They don’t look as Chinese as you might think they should. There’s a reason for that.

It was at about that time that Sean approached me and said, “Dajiu, do you see those three statues over there?” He pointed to three tall statues that faced us, perhaps 300 yards away. I nodded yes. “If you look at their faces, you will see that they have Roman features.” Truth be told, I couldn’t really see it in the statues because they were too far away, but I grabbed a photo and later, on my computer, I could see something different. But before I looked at the photo, it all clicked for me. That’s what had my attention with that girl. We were literally in the middle of China and she didn’t look as Chinese as her two friends. She looked different.

All right, my friends, I need to go tangential here for a minute or two and share this story with you. Hang on, because this is real Indiana Jones stuff. No, scratch that. I’ve never seen an Indiana Jones movie with a story line this good (and I’ve seen all of them).

More than 2,000 years ago, before the birth of Christ, the two most powerful empires on the planet were the Roman Empire and the Han Dynasty. These two superpowers of their time enjoyed a brisk trade relationship along the Silk Road. Yep, the very same trail we had been riding for the last few days. Between them (in what became Iran and its surrounding regions) lay a smaller empire called Parthia. For reasons only the Romans understood, Rome thought it would be a good idea to attack Parthia. They sent several Roman Legions to war (and to put this in perspective, a Roman Legion consisted of about 5,000 men). To everyone’s surprise (including, I would imagine, the Romans), the Parthians kicked Rome’s butt.

Wow, imagine that. Rome, defeated on the field of battle by the much smaller Parthian Empire. To put it mildly, things did not quite go the way the Romans thought they would.


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All of this severely disrupted trade between the Han Dynasty and the Romans, and nobody liked that. “Why the hell did you do that?” the Han Dynasty asked Rome. “We had a good thing going and you screwed it up.”  At least that’s what I’m guessing the conversation went like.  You get the idea.

Cooler minds prevailed and the Romans  realized, yeah, that was a dumb move.  The Romans told the Parthians, hey, it’s over, let’s be friends again. The war ended, the Chinese were happy, the Romans were happy, the Parthians were happy, and trade resumed. All’s well that ends well.

Well, sort of. There was still that matter of those pesky Roman legions that had invaded Parthia. They didn’t come back from that war, and for two thousand years, no one knew what happened to them. The Romans probably assumed their Legionnaires had all been slaughtered.  No one knew until an Australian dude and a Chinese guy, both University archeologist types (starting to sound a little like Indiana Jones yet?) put a theory together in 1957. Hmmm, maybe those Romans had not been killed after all.

The Parthians, being bright enough to defeat the Romans, were not about to let the Legionnaires go home and perhaps attack them again in some future war. They didn’t want to kill the Romans, either. I guess they were kinder, gentler Parthians.  Here’s where those two Aussie and Chinese archeologists enter the picture. They hypothesized that the Parthians told the errant Legionnaires, “Look, we don’t want to kill all you guys, but there’s no way we’re going to let you go back to Rome. And there’s no room for you here, either. Your only option is to keep heading east. Go to China. Maybe you crazy warmongering Italians will find nice Chinese girls and settle down.”   With that, and as one might imagine, a hearty arrivederci, the Romans continued their eastward march straight into the middle of China.

And folks, the prevailing wisdom today is that is exactly what happened (although the prevailing wisdom evidently hasn’t prevailed very far, as I had never heard the story until that morning in Yongchang). In fact, prior to this theory surfacing, folks wondered why the Chinese referred to the area around Yongchang as Liqian. That’s not a Chinese word, and it’s unlike the name of any other Chinese town.  The folks who know about these things tell me it is an unusual word in the Chinese language.

Liqian is  pronounced “Lee Chee On.”

Get it yet?

Lee Chee On? Liqian?

Doesn’t it sound like “legion?” As in Roman legion?

A Chinese man in Liqian. This guy could be the Marlboro Man for a Chinese cigarette company!

I found all of this fascinating. I saw more than a few people around the Liqian area that had a distinct western appearance, and they all consented to my taking their photos when I asked. They recognize just how special their story is. The Chinese government is taking note of this area, too. They are developing a large theme park just outside of Yongchang with a Roman motif. We visited that theme park, and while we were there, Sergeant Zuo gave a book to me (printed in both English and Chinese) about the place. It is one of the two books I brought back from China, and that book is now one of my most prized possessions.

Imagine that:  Roman legions, resettled in the middle of China, in a town called Liqian.  And I rode there.  On an RX3.


Watch for our next Indiana Jones episode in China.  It’s about the lost Buddhist grottos at Mo Gao in the Gobi Desert.  There’s more good stuff coming your way.  Stay tuned!


Want to read more about the ride across China?  Pick up a copy of Riding China!

Motorcyclist magazine: What happened?

A few weeks ago, blogmeister Joe Gresh vented on Bonnier and Motorcyclist magazine.  It was a great piece of writing (not a surprise, seeing as it was coming from Gresh) and it garnered more than a few comments.

I thought that Motorcyclist had already gone belly up.   I used to subscribe, and I thought my subscription had already ended, so I was more than a little surprised when I received the final issue in the mail last week.   We checked our records and whaddaya know, we had renewed for a year, so now I’m annoyed that I’m apparently going to get stiffed for the last two issues (Motorcyclist didn’t say anything about reimbursing folks like me who are owed another issue or two).   I guess the reason I was surprised was that with Motorcyclist’s recently-adopted quarterly print schedule, it had been so long since I received the last issue I assumed the subscription had already expired.  Truth be told, the last few issues of Motorcyclist were terrible, I hadn’t read most of their articles after glancing at them initially, and I’m not missing Motorcyclist at all.  It had become a collection of snowflake fluff.

Anyway, I looked through the last issue (the one I received last week) to see if they were making this a special issue (you know, because it was the last).  Nope, not really.  There was a brief article (less than a page) near the beginning that explained this was the last issue and it stated what I believe to be not more than a couple of half-assed excuses:  The motorcycle industry has been in a permanent funk since the recession and nobody with any brains advertises in print media.  It’s a digital world, Motorcyclist said, and motorcycling (as an interest, an endeavor, and an industry) is on life support (my words, but that’s essentially the Motorcyclist message).   My take?  These guys are good at making excuses.  They’re right up there with that world-class, place-the-blame-anywhere-but-on-me hack who wrote What Happened.  Blame it on the Russians, I guess.

The rest of the articles in the final Motorcyclist made no mention that this was the last issue, so my take on the whole affair is that it was a decision made suddenly.   It’s a pity, as Motorcyclist used to be good.   Really good.  They had superb writing (including a regular column by a guy named Joe Gresh).   But they failed to adapt.  The market was changing and the coffee-table format and fluffy content Motorcyclist switched to a few years ago missed the mark by a mile.  To their credit, they realized they had a problem, but their diagnosis and prescribed course of treatment was wrong.  It’s that old joke:  What do you call the student who graduates at the bottom of their medical school class?  The answer, of course, is Doctor.  Just having the title, though, doesn’t mean you know the right answers.

In the final analysis, I don’t buy what Motorcyclist said for the most obvious of reasons:  There are good motorcycle magazines out there that are thriving.  They’ve done a far better job of picking the right content, format, and market niche, and they are serving it well.  One is Motorcycle Classics, with a focus on classic motorcycles.  Another is RoadRUNNER, with a focus on touring.   Rider may be in that category, too (I haven’t looked at them lately).   And there’s Buzz Kanter’s American Iron magazine, with a focus on custom and vintage mostly-made-in-America motorcycles.   I believe there are several things that inoculate these publications to the double whammies of a depressed motorcycle market and the brave new digital world.  The first is that each is led by passionate riders.   Think Landon Hall at Motorcycle Classics, the Neuhausers at RoadRUNNER, and Buzz Kanter at AIM.  These are folks who ride, who tour, who love motorcycles, and who live in our world (and that comes across in their magazines).  The second huge factor is that each of these magazines found a niche that doesn’t need to scoop the competition.   If you’re in the printed magazine business and you need to be the first to publish breaking news, you’ll never beat the Internet.  Nope, each of these magazines went a different route.  Vintage bikes aren’t bold new graphics or the latest race results (let the Internet break that kind of baloney).   Touring is not breaking news and that’s why RoadRUNNER does well.  And custom, or vintage, Harleys and Indians…well, that’s the same deal:  American Iron has what is essentially a timeless topic.  And then there’s one last factor, I think, and it is that each of these magazines has superior editorial direction.  The articles are profoundly interesting, well-written, error-free, and skillfully presented.  Landon, Florian, and Steve are gifted editors who take their life’s work seriously, and if you didn’t know, they are the editors of Motorcycle Classics, RoadRUNNER, and American Iron.

Nope, the demise of Motorcyclist is unfortunate, but it’s of their own doing. Cream always rises to the top, flawed strategies ultimately fail, and the Russians had nothing to do with it.

Motorcycle Entertainment: Monkee-Moto!

Television in the mid-1960s was nothing if not predictable. As we watched the shadows on the wall, behind us society was undergoing dramatic change. The old ways were failing, cracks formed in the smooth, comforting facade. Bit by bit it was revealed that whoever was in charge was not being entirely truthful. One of the first television shows to reflect our growing national cynicism was The Monkees: Four longhaired kids who respected neither the camera nor the situation comedy process. The Monkees broke the fourth wall so many times you felt like you were on set with them.

My favorite Monkee episode (because of the motorcycles) opens with Micky Dolenz singing Going Down. Micky was the drummer and the best singer in the band and he nails Going Down’s proto-rap feel. From there, the show falls apart beautifully with motorcycles, a chalkboard Hog reference, dust and pretty girls beating up The Monkees.

Amid typical Monkee chaos in walks The Black Angels biker gang featuring a leader who just wants to destroy somebody. 50 years ago the cliché biker image was so embedded in our culture that all it took was a black jacket to signify a hoodlum. Harley Davidson has mined that image right up to today, creating an entire sub-set of true believers. The rest of us modern motorcyclists with our high-tech, high-vis monkey suits look more like school crossing guards.

The monkees form their own biker gang called The Chickens and during a race between the bad guys more cinema magic is revealed. There is a plot to all this but it’s mostly there to keep the boys from walking off the set. At the end of the show peace and love is restored, Triumphs and Harleys get along together and you’re filled with hope for the future.

This was situation comedy television unlike any that came before. It was random. It exposed the fakery. Jack Benny’s old TV show was The Monkees spirit guide. After 2 years the Monkees show was cancelled. The Monkees became a real band and had many hits written and preformed by themselves. Which just goes to show you that living a lie sometimes leads to success.